Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and related characters, places, names, etc.
Chapter Five: The Meaning of Soul
Neville tried to appear confident as he walked the halls of St. Mungo's. He was not a Healer or anything important, just an herbologist, and a trainee one at that. His job didn't even involve any potions work – which was good, as he didn't even have an O.W.L. in potions. So far, his main responsibility was to care for the magical and non-magical plants needed by the Pharma-Potionsmasters, although he had been told that he would be assigned to more research jobs once he had some experience.
He smoothed the fabric of his sand-colored training robes and pushed open the door to the Closed Ward. His department was located on the ground floor in a barely-adjacent building, so he rarely needed to venture into the main part of the hospital. He didn't recognize the Healer on duty, but she looked friendly enough.
"Hi, I'm Neville Longbottom," he said as he approached the desk.
The Healer looked up at him and grinned wryly. "Yes, I can see that," she replied, pointing to his robe. He belatedly remembered he was wearing a name badge as a part of his uniform. "The other Healers said you usually only visit during the holidays, with your grandmother."
"Yeah…well, I have some things to tell them." Neville shifted uncomfortably and tried to remember why he had decided this was a good idea. He normally hated watching his parents and wondering what they might have been like.
He walked down to the end of the room, thankful for the privacy curtains. It felt sort of weird to be there without his gran. He pulled a small bag of candy from his pocket, even though it was typically his gran who brought candy, and set it on the small table that separated his parents' beds.
His dad was playing with what looked like a Muggle child's toy pinwheel. He didn't look up when Neville entered. His mother, however, smiled at him, though out of recognition or simply because she was glad to see another person Neville couldn't tell. Neville liked to think she knew who he was, but the Healers had always told them this was unlikely. His mother might recognize his face but she would never really know who he was.
Alice immediately picked a piece of candy out of the bag and shuffled back to her bed, her eyes staring into nothing.
"Hi Mum, Dad. Gran says hello," Neville said softly. Neither of them seemed to acknowledge his voice. "I have some things I wanted to tell you by myself, though, so it's just me today."
"I turn eighteen today. Gran's planned a party, to celebrate my birthday and my new job…but she doesn't know I know." His father set down the pinwheel and walked over towards the window. Neville faltered a bit but continued talking. "I'm getting married in two weeks. Gran has warmed up to the idea, I think. My fiancée is Ginny Weasley; you would like her. I hope you would, anyway."
Neville glanced back around the privacy curtains to check that the Healer was out of earshot. "I really love her, you know. I'm not sure she knows that. I hope you wouldn't think I'm stupid for marrying someone who's still in love with someone else, no matter that the someone else is dead. I'm still not sure how I should approach her…if it's even okay to talk about him, or if it's still too soon. I just hope we can learn to trust each other before the baby gets here. Imagine that, me trying to play the part of someone's dad."
Neville paused and glanced at his mother. Alice smiled and leaned over to pat his hand. Neville choked back his tears. "I'm working here, you know. Gran was surprised I got such a good job. It's nothing like being an Auror, but I like it so far."
He turned to leave, thinking he had babbled enough already, but then he noticed his mother's outstretched arm. She smiled widely and dropped the Droobles Blowing Gum wrapper into his hand.
Neville felt suddenly compelled to do something he couldn't remember ever doing before. He flung his arms around his mother's scrawny neck and hugged her fiercely. He repeated this with his dad, though neither acknowledged their son or returned the hug. Somehow, though, just talking to other people, even if they didn't respond, had lightened his heart a bit about Ginny. Feeling oddly comforted, Neville waved goodbye and resolved to visit more often.
Neville arrived at his "surprise" party to find his gran deep in conversation with Mrs. Weasley. Ginny's mother had initially disagreed with the half-truth Neville had told his grandmother, but she had finally agreed it was best for the time being.
"My gran has a lot of friends," Neville had explained. "She'll talk, and someone will find out." He hoped Mrs. Weasley was keeping to her promise, but he didn't feel like interrupting the two just yet.
It looked like the entire Weasley family was in attendance, minus Charlie, of course, and that one Head Boy Neville hadn't really liked. A few of his classmates were there, as well as the usual smattering of Longbottom relatives and his gran's friends. He was slightly uncomfortable with all the noise and people; he had never had a birthday party this large before.
Seamus and Dean cornered him near the punch bowl, identical curious looks on their faces. "Colin told us you're marrying Ginny Weasley," Dean stated, his tone somewhat cold.
"Yes, I am," Neville replied, wondering how Colin had found out. It didn't take him long to figure it out – Luna must have told him.
"We heard she's pregnant, too," Seamus said with a smirk. "Why didn't you tell us you were shagging her?"
"I don't think that's any of your business," Neville said a little too quickly. He turned around to find Luna, only half-hearing Dean's belated "Happy Birthday!"
Hermione grabbed his arm before he got very far. Neville started to protest, but she held firm.
"I already talked to Luna and Colin. They said they hadn't told very many people. Besides," she added, lowering her voice, "everyone Luna told, including Colin, thinks the child is yours, which is what we want. Don't worry about it; enjoy your birthday."
Neville mingled a bit, trying to follow Hermione's advice. He said hello to the rest of the Weasleys, who had all been very welcoming. His Aunt Agatha pounced on him at one point, giving him a huge sloppy kiss on his cheek and congratulating him on his "fancy new job." Aunt Agatha smelled like sour milk and wore a bright purple hat with a stuffed parrot on it at all times, even indoors. She was also every bit as overbearing as his grandmother, although not quite so condescending.
He was about to stop by the table where most of his gran's friends were seated, but changed his mind after hearing snippets of their conversation.
"No, I haven't actually seen the poor girl anywhere."
"-couldn't believe it, Augusta always said he was a good boy."
"Did you know the girl's still in school? He's completely ruined her chances at finishing her education."
Swallowing hard, Neville turned around so quickly he nearly lost his balance. He marched towards the food table and stuffed his face with a bit of everything before stopping to catch his breath and think about what he had just heard.
He had known people would react badly to his and Ginny's situation, but he had not expected to take the blame for ruining her life. It was a strange feeling to be accused of something he hadn't done. Normally when someone, usually his grandmother, told him off or criticized him, he deserved it. He hoped Ginny hadn't heard any of this talk, as it was likely to upset her. Sighing, he licked his sticky fingers and tried not to draw attention to himself.
Instead, he tried to focus on how nice it had been of his gran to throw him this party, really. Despite everything, she had done everything possible to make today special for him, which he appreciated. The food really was quite good, and it looked like he had received a lot of nice presents, too. However, he couldn't stop thinking about Ginny. The look on Dean's face had been murderous and had made Neville feel like he was using her, and his gran's friends had made him feel like a criminal.
He hadn't actually seen her anywhere. She hadn't been feeling well lately, and while Mrs. Weasley had assured him it was normal he still didn't like it. He had taken to eating dinner with the Weasleys a few times a week, and Ginny always looked like she was either about to throw up or burst into tears at any moment. The worst thing was, he felt as though there was nothing he could do to help.
Finding Ginny, though, would at least give him an excuse to escape the noise for a little while. He scanned the crowd in search of his soon-to-be mother-in-law. Groaning, he realized she was still speaking with his gran.
"The wedding definitely has to be close friends and family only," Mrs. Weasley said as his gran listened attentively. "Arthur and I figured it was better to wait until Ginny was of age – less paperwork, fewer questions. You said Neville's Great-Uncle Algie could perform the ceremony?"
"Yes, he's Ministry certified. Have they talked to you about where they plan to live? I'd like them to stay with me, but Ginny will probably want to be near you until the baby is born," his gran said matter-of-factly.
Neville cleared his throat. A part of him resented how much his gran and Mrs. Weasley were interfering. This was definitely not what he thought weddings were supposed to be like. After a few seconds he cleared his throat again, and this time both women looked up at him expectantly. "Is Ginny around?" he asked.
"She wasn't feeling well; I sent her upstairs to lie down," his gran responded. Neville headed for the stairs immediately.
Ginny wasn't in the guest room, so Neville headed to his own bedroom. He hoped she wasn't in there, as it was kind of a mess. When he opened the door, however, he could see her sitting at the window. She looked somewhat forlorn, and Neville approached her cautiously.
"Gran told me you were up here," he began.
Ginny turned to face him. "Oh, yes. She's getting used to me, I think." Ginny stared down at her hands, and Neville moved to sit next to her.
"What's wrong?" he asked. He moved to cover her hand with his own, then stopped halfway. She needed a friend, not a fiancé.
Ginny rose from her seat and began pacing. It was still impossible to tell she was pregnant just by looking at her, although she did have a sort of glow about her. Neville sat in silence, content to watch her. Suddenly, she paused and picked up a photograph of himself and his Gryffindor roommates, taken by Colin Creevey in sixth year.
Her fingers gently traced the figures in the photograph. Picture-Harry was elbowing Picture-Ron, and Picture-Seamus was giving Picture-Neville bunny ears while Picture-Dean laughed. They all looked happy, completely uncaring about their troubles and unaware of the hard times that lie ahead. It was one of Neville's favorite keepsakes.
"Harry would have been eighteen tomorrow," Ginny said softly, breaking into his thoughts.
Neville cursed himself for forgetting. Of course she would be out of sorts today. He had no idea what to say, so he simply moved to put his arms around her.
She pulled away and sat down on his mostly made bed. "He never told you, did he?"
Puzzled, Neville shook his head. "Never told me what?"
"You remember that prophecy, the one that smashed in the Department of Mysteries?" Ginny asked.
Neville nodded; he wasn't likely to ever forget that night.
"Dumbledore was the one who heard the prophecy originally, and he told Harry about it...and Harry told me after I coaxed it out of him. It said the one who could defeat Voldemort would be born at the end of July eighteen years ago. His parents would have defied Voldemort three times. The prophecy went on to say that the Dark Lord would 'mark him as his equal,' and Voldemort chose Harry when he gave him the scar, but it could have been – "
"Me," Neville finished. He was silent for several moments, lost in thought. He wondered if this prophecy had factored into his parents being targeted by Bellatrix Lestrange and her Death Eater mates. That thought wasn't particularly comforting, though – it just meant that his parents were in St. Mungo's because of him.
"I wish it had been me. I never really had parents anyway, and then Harry could have lived," Neville said finally. "Except Harry was a better wizard than me…I don't think I could have killed V-voldemort. I still have trouble saying his name…"
Ginny was crying now and Neville found himself starting to tear up, too. They sat on his bed, the photograph lying between them, almost mocking them with the happiness it contained. Neither spoke for nearly ten minutes, when someone suddenly knocked on the door.
"Neville, there you are!" his gran exclaimed. "I've been looking all over for you; you're being extremely rude to your guests. This is your party, after all. Come back downstairs."
His grandmother didn't seem to have noticed that he and Ginny both had tears on their faces, or even that Ginny was also in the room. Neville hesitated, but Ginny simply nodded. It was clear to him that she wanted to stay upstairs, alone.
"Hurry up!" his gran said, motioning him towards the door. Sighing, Neville prepared himself to make the rounds again…he probably wouldn't escape talking with his gran's friends this time.
He chanced a glance back at Ginny, who was staring at him intently. "Neville," she called softly.
He was almost out the door, but poked his head back inside as his gran started down the stairs. "Yes?"
Ginny fixed her eyes on him, as though imploring him to listen. "You shouldn't wish it had been you. Harry wouldn't have wanted you to feel that way…and neither do I."
A/N: Thanks to all my readers and especially my reviewers! Your comments always make me smile.